From Past to Present
by Elster Gloom
Summary: A narrative account of one of my Skyrim characters, [From Past to Present] is the story of Kjell, a Nord thief trying to make a name for himself, to help restore glory to his organization, who ends up in some unexpected company. Companion works: [Sky Above, Voice Within] and [Night without Stars]. Special thanks to dostana for editing/proofreading!


Sundas, 17th of Last Seed, 4E 201

The dragon attack on Helgen had taken everyone by surprise. At the event's initiation, the confusion had been so thick that Kjell, locked in the dungeon of Helgen keep, couldn't tell what was going on. Not unaware of the ongoing civil conflict that gripped Skyrim, he thought the shouting voices and clanging of weaponry echoing in from other rooms must have meant that Ulfric Stormcloak's militia had come to take Helgen – although, he wondered why they would want Helgen.

A group of soldiers in Stormcloak blue swept through the room that held Kjell's cell. They were bloodstained, he noted, so they must have had to fight their way through. _Maybe it's true, then,_ he pondered. The band of soldiers nearly ran right past Kjell, but he decided to try them.

"Wait, come back!" he called.

On soldier turned around and approached him, as two more waited where they stood, cautious, gripping their weapons. Kjell was sure they'd be suspicious of anyone imprisoned; he'd have to be convincing.

"Didn't realize anyone was in here," the soldier said. All the other cells in the room, after all, were unoccupied – at least by anyone living.

"I've been imprisoned for Talos worship," Kjell lied, hoping they weren't smart enough to check any of the written records in the middle of a siege.

It worked, and the soldier picked open Kjell's lock. It took him several tries, but finally the lock clicked and the door swung open. The man who did the unlocking seemed to be the leader of this small band. He explained the situation above ground and their plan to seek an exit out the other end of Helgen keep. His followers clutched their weapons, eyeing Kjell uncertainly, but eventually released. Kjell was able to re-equip himself along the way through the keep, although he didn't find his own belongings. Some cheap iron daggers and a handful of lockpicks would have to do, he supposed.

With an entourage of soldiers, Kjell felt relatively save moving deeper through the keep, even having to cut through the Helgen guards and soldiers still there, his former gaolers and harassers. While the Stormcloaks took the brunt of the attacks thrown at them, Kjell supported from the back line when it seemed prudent; after all, though he was a good shot with a throwing knife, he was unarmored and under-equipped against the guards and legion soldiers.

The stone rooms and floors of Helgen keep were after a while replaced with gravel, pebbles, and wet soil; the low crackling of torchfires with the distant sound of running water. The basement of the keep connected to a cave. After the transition from keep to cavern, they encountered no one else inside.

When they finally made it out of the cave, the man who had liberated Kjell from his cage introduced himself as Ralof. He suggested, to Kjell's surprise, accompanying him to another nearby town, Riverwood. Kjell was familiar with the place, but barely.

"You've seen the true face of the Empire here today," Ralof told him, imploring that he travel to Windhelm to join the Stormcloak militia, and their "fight to free Skyrim."

The invitation to Riverwood, to receive aid from Ralof's sister, was extended – Kjell figured – with the assumption that ultimately he would _do_ all those things: going to Windhelm, joining that militia. This, Kjell mused, was what he never understood about people with grand convictions. They were always getting swept up, to the point of delirium, and it left them thinkink everyone else must be as swept up as they are. Already, this Ralof treated Kjell as a comrade, like an old war buddy, and he didn't even know Kjell's name. For all the guy knew, Kjell would only take advantage of their hospitality, and then make off with all their valuables in the night. In fact, that was _exactly_ what Kjell was planning to do, and he didn't see how Ralof _couldn't_ see it coming.

As they walked down the path toward the town, Ralof rambled about the local landmarks. Kjell made a mental note of the large ruin, which Ralof called Bleak Falls Barrow. Burial mounds meant offerings, and those often took the form of money. The dead wouldn't miss it. Kjell would usually consider grave robbery the job of a more adventurous thief, but these were unusual times. But he didn't want to get ahead of himself; the first step was to follow Ralof to the village and get some supplies. There would be plenty of barrows to crawl; there always were.

Finally, after a little time and a lot of talk, they made it to Riverwood. Kjell sat through Ralof's retelling of the day's events to his sister, Gerdur, who said, "any friend of Ralof's is a friend of mine," and welcomed Kjell into her home, even offering him all manner of supplies up front.

"The Jarl needs to know if there's a dragon on the loose," she said. "If you can bring words of this to Jarl Balgruuf, I'll be in your debt."

As always, a catch. But, just as always, she had no way or even intention of ensuring that he followed through. _What a naïve rube,_ Kjell thought, nearly rolling his eyes. But what harm was there in agreeing to her terms? By the time he was gone with her valuables, it'd be too late to stop him, and if the woman had any sense she'd go looking for another messenger, instead of trusting that he'd come through anyway.

For this improvised robbery to go off seamlessly, Kjell would have to bide some time. He spent a few minutes in Gerdur's house, listening to Ralof and his brother-in-law, Hod, ramble with each other. Confident that he could find his way back to it, and having verbally accepted their offer of a place to stay, he decided to leave the house and check out their local general store.

Entering the shop, Kjell walked into the middle of an argument. It quickly dissipated, and the shopkeeper apologized for their display, explaining that he'd had an expensive ornament stolen recently, and that the bandits who stole it were likely holed up at Bleak Falls Barrow – the same ruin that Ralof had pointed out on the way from Helgen to Riverwood. This being the case, Kjell supposed that in one way or another, his intuition that the barrow held treasure worth plundering was correct. The shopkeeper further informed that he was offering a reward for the ornament's return.

Kjell immediately began revising his course of actions. He would leave Riverwood in the middle of the night and head toward the ruin. There, he would presumably find this shopkeeper's precious golden claw, whatever that meant exactly. He would bring the claw back, claim the reward money, and then return the following night to steal back the claw, creating his own win-win situation. It had been some time since Kjell last did any proper tomb-crawling. Still, he was quite confident he could handle himself.

Morndas, 18th of Last Seed, 4E 201

Very late at night (or, more accurately, very early in the morning), while Ralof and his relations slept, Kjell carefully relieved them of any coin on their persons. Then, quickly and quietly, he removed coin, potions, and any other valuables he could find from the house, plus a knapsack in which to carry it all. Then, without even waking the dog, he made his exit. In a stroke of dumb luck, Kjell also found that the town's blacksmith had left many of his wares laying out near his workstation, so he helped himself to more equipment – some better daggers, and some actual throwing knives.

He knew it was risky to do any of this thieving before returning to the town to deal with the claw. He would have to be careful to avoid this family's notice when he did so, which might prove no easy task, since Gerdur and her husband ran the mill around which the town was built. But Kjell also didn't think he'd have such an opportunity to clear them out later, and he believed himself to be up to the task of avoiding them.

The burial ruin known as Bleak Falls Barrow was up on the side of a mountain, and though the first portion of the hike was uneventful, the path was steep. Climbing higher and higher, Kjell found himself really missing his old gear. In his current state, he was woefully ill-equipped for travel, especially in cold weather. He didn't look forward to nightfall, and worried that he might not make it to the barrow before it came. Still, he was determined to power through it.

As flurries came and heralded an approaching blizzard, Kjell came across a small watchtower, that looked to be abandoned. It was perfect timing. Without adequate gear, he knew he could easily die if he didn't take shelter, so, carefully and quietly dispatching a group of bandits outside, he crept into the entrance of the tower. In the state he was in, he didn't want to let anyone else know of his presence, and he was sure the tower was occupied by _someone_. He carefully slipped into a nook under the spiraling stairs and, tensely, he waited.

After several hours crouched with his weapon drawn, the snow outside the door still showed no signs of letting up. Kjell was beginning to get desperate. He needed something to shelter him from the draft of the open doorway, or at least some source of warmth, but it wouldn't be safe to seek out any of that unless he cleared the tower.

Carefully, a throwing knife at the ready and a dagger in the other hand, Kjell crept up the stairs. Fortunately, there were only two bandits in the tower, and they weren't much better off in this cold than Kjell was himself. The moment he saw them clearly, he hurled a knife at the closer one, lodging it surprisingly firmly in her throat. She never fought back. The other bandit charged toward him with a war hammer, but Kjell deftly dodged his over-wide swing, plunged the dagger into his side, and twisted before pulling out and stabbing twice more for good measure. The bandit fell, clutching his side and stomach protectively with his arms, but the damage was done.

Desperately, Kjell began foraging. There was a fireplace inside the tower, and that was his first order of business. He broke apart a table for dry wood, and used a frayed end of a rope for tinder. Luckily, there was also a firestriker on hand, something Kjell had neglected to consider before he left Riverwood. He used it to start a fire and then put it away in his knapsack.

Once warmed by the fire, he set about searching the rest of the room for other useful or valuable items. There was a chest containing, among other things, a set of fur clothing. It offered minimal protection from bodily harm, but was relatively lightweight. Kjell was used to these features, and desperately needed the warmth, so he changed immediately. Then, he downed a bottle of mead (courtesy of Gerdur in Riverwood) and waited for the snow to let up, keeping up his fire and thinking about what he would do next.

By midday, there was still no sign of the storm's end, and Kjell began to worry about how long he might be stuck here. He only had a few days' worth of food. He scavenged what he could from the bandits' supplies, but it seemed that they didn't actually know what they were doing up in the tower. They had some potatoes, a few tomatoes, and several sacks of flour. Kjell's culinary knowledge was rudimentary at best; he had little idea how to make anything from these ingredients, aside from a dry baked potato. For now, he simply ate the tomatoes raw, to put something into his stomach. As the afternoon waned into evening, Kjell succumbed to sleep next to his fire.

Tirdas, 19th of Last Seed, 4E 201

By the time he woke, Kjell's fire had gone out and he was so cold he could hardly move. He forced himself, one way or another, to get up and find more wood. The splintered wood of the table had been almost entirely used up the day before. This time, he dismantled an end table. He used more of the same frayed rope for tinder to start the fire and warm himself back up again.

It was late afternoon when the storm finally quit and the snow settled. Kjell could have waited for morning, but he feared he would just be waiting for another storm to begin. So, eager to get out of the miserable trap he had been In, he immediately packed his things back up and continued toward the ruin. It was close, and he could still make it there before dark if he kept up a moderate walking pace.

There were many more bandits outside of the ruin than there had been at the watchtower, but Kjell carefully snuck past them. Upon entering, he realized why those saps in the tower were so underequipped. Inside Bleak Falls Barrow was where they made their real base of operations – not that they were set up all that much better here, but it was something.

In the low light, Kjell found it easy to slink around the room and dispatch them. As always he spared a moment to loot anything good they had, then proceeded down into the tombs.

Despite being relatively experienced in the area of grave robbing, Bleak Falls Barrow gave Kjell the creeps. As he delved further and further in, he came across more and more dead bandits. _Peculiar,_ he thought. _What could be killing all these bandits down here in a tomb full of dead people?_ To his annoyance, he also noticed that most of the burial urns, at least near the top of the tombs, had already been cleaned out.

Eventually, Kjell stumbled upon a large frostbite spider's lair. He narrowly avoided several nasty bites while taking out the spider, but didn't find it a challenge. Still, he supposed, it was possible that this was killing all those bandits. If not, whatever it was couldn't be all that much bigger or badder; after all, the spider itself had still been alive.

As he was preparing to move on, Kjell heard someone's voice calling out for help. Following it, he found that the source was some poor sap, strung up in spider silk at the back of the spider's lair, whining, pleading, and bargaining to be cut down. Kjell intended to ignore the man, but after inspecting the area more closely, he found that the only way to proceed any further into the tombs would be to pass through the doorway in which the man was hanging. So, grudgingly, Kjell used one of his daggers to cut the man down – but he took his sweet time about it.

As Kjell slowly worked at cutting the spider's thick silk, the hanging man had some intriguing things to say. Evidently these bandits _did_ have that golden claw the shopkeeper was after. What was more, the claw was apparently more than just some random bauble for display, but this fool was too desperate to slow down and explain it all clearly. At any rate, he insisted that he knew the true function of the claw, and would share the spoils with Kjell in return for saving him. _Yeah, right,_ Kjell thought, although he had every intention of following, whether the bandit was truly, willfully planning to split the loot or not. One way or another, Kjell would get the information and then silence the bandit.

Kjell's intuition was good; as soon as the bandit could move freely, he turned around and took off running. But it didn't matter; Kjell stunned him, throwing a quick, well placed knife that stuck right into the back of his neck. This caused him to falter and allowed Kjell to catch up. He grabbed the bandit by his hair and yanked him back, using his dagger to slice the man's throat. Then he gathered the golden claw, the bandit's money, and his journal (which he conveniently had been carrying around on his person), and left him gurgling on the floor to die at his leisure, as Kjell thumbed through the journal. It contained, among other things, information pertinent to the use of the golden claw. It was the key to a locked door someplace in the tomb, in what the bandit called the Hall of Stories.

Proceeding from there, Kjell finally found a plausible answer to all the previous, non-spider-eaten corpses he had been finding. Beyond the point of the spider's lair, the draugr, normally harmless due to their being dead, were up and running around the tombs, brandishing weapons. _Dragons, draugr,_ Kjell thought, _Shor's bones, what next? A horker with wings?_ Briefly, he considered turning back, but he was in too far at this point to _just_ turn back. He should easily be able to handle himself against a bunch of shambling corpses, and how that he was finally pushing deeper than any of the bandits had, there would be more money and jewelry to pick up from the dead and the urns, the deeper in he went.

Finally, as he was running out of energy, he came to a long corridor with an enormous, ornate door. This, he supposed, must be the Hall of Stories that had been mentioned in the bandit's writings. It had carvings all along the walls, but Kjell didn't stop to look them over. He was practically dead on his feet, in desperate need of rest. So, exhausted, he locked himself inside ; it wasn't ideal, but he had to sleep here.

Middas, 20th of Last Seed, 4E 201

After resting only as long as was absolutely necessary, Kjell awoke. He was stiff and only slightly less tired, but as ready as he would ever be to face whatever was behind the door and certainly ready to leave Bleak Falls Barrow behind him.

What he found on the other side of the door, however, was somewhat anticlimactic. Here was no bandit overlord, and no great king of all draugr. Just a chest (with valuables, sure, but after all it seemed just a chest) and a large carving on a wall, that Kjell couldn't make heads or tails of. It looked like some sort of script, but it definitely wasn't ancient Nordic, like he'd expect in this kind of tomb. In any case, Kjell relieved the chest of its loot and took his leave of the place.

It was midmorning when Kjell emerged from a small cave opening on the side of a mountain. Following the river, he knew, would take him to Riverwood, so that was what he did. He could use the foliage on the west side of the river to hide himself from the likes of Gerdur and her relations. The shop he needed to hit was closer to the north edge of the town, from where he would circle back and approach. But the closer he got to Riverwood, the less convinced he felt that he really needed all the trouble – just for, what, probably 100 septims at best? No, Kjell told himself, having a change of heart. He had what he wanted – that shopkeeper's precious gold ornament, an interesting artifact, to be sure. There was no reason to go back to Riverwood. Coming upon the road and the bridge toward the town, Kjell continued north. What he needed to do now was make his way back to Riften.

The road was calm and peaceful, for once, and as Kjell came to the intersection with two bridges and saw Whiterun not far away, he felt a twinge, an almost guilty feeling gnawing at the back of his mind. _Damn it all_, he thought to himself and he reluctantly turned east toward the city. _What's a day or two, though, really?_ he thought.

As he approached the city gates, and guard rushed from his post to intercept. For a split-second, Kjell thought he had been made and was being arrested. But, he realized, that couldn't be possible – he wasn't wearing or even carrying anything that could out him as a member of the thieves guild. As it turned out, the guard was just eager to inform him that the city was "closed" on account of the dragon attack. _So they already know about the dragon,_ Kjell thought. _Maybe I can make this work to my advantage if I get into the city_. In the most official sounding voice he could muster, Kjell replied to the guard.

"I have news from Helgen about the dragon attack," he said firmly. The guard fell right for it and let him in.

Since the city was already aware of the dragon, Kjell didn't need to the Jarl's palace (although he briefly considered going in to case the joint). Wandering about the town, he took notice of the shadow marks on the various shops. While he was here, he supposed he might as well get a bit of work done. Stopping in the central district, he gazed up admiringly at the large hall to his right – Jorrvaskr. Of course, everyone in Skyrim had heard stories of the band of Companions and their great mead hall, Jorrvaskr. The word within the guild was that no thief could make it in and out of there alive. _Perhaps,_ Kjell thought, _I should put that theory to the test._ He had never actually been to Whiterun before, or done many jobs outside of Riften at all. He wasn't sure if word of his arrest had made it back to the guild yet, but if he could pull off _this_ job… at the very least, he saw much more travel and excitement in his future.

As he was staring up at Jorrvaskr, daydreaming, Kjell was interrupted in his thoughts by a small voice off to his right.

"Mister," the voice called softly, "could you spare a coin?"

It was a child, begging on the streets. Kjell wanted to be shocked, but was unsurprised. Seeing the pitiful little girl, he couldn't help thinking back to his own childhood. This child, at least, was better off on these streets than at Honorhall. Without a word, Kjell gave her five septims, then continued along his way to find a tavern. He needed a place to sit a while and think about what he would do next.


End file.
